


My Heart Stops

by anyothergirl415



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, M/M, Muteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-14
Updated: 2010-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyothergirl415/pseuds/anyothergirl415
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha is the class clown, Mike is the new boy with a not so secret, secret, this is how they meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2010 - Prompt: doubt

The silence that followed the overly loud squeak and swell of their teacher sitting on a whoopee cushion was almost deafening. And then there was laughter, billowing in waves from the students around him. They looked his way because they knew he was responsible, like he always was, but Misha schooled his features into something smooth and unreadable. Especially when Mrs. Hettinger pulled out the now deflated whoopee cushion and sighed.

“Mr. Collins, honestly, haven’t you matured enough to at least be more creative with your practical jokes?”

“The classics are always the best ma’am,” Misha pointed out and shrugged, tapping his pencil along his desk.

“Alright everyone, calm down.” Mrs. Hettinger shot Misha a look, tossing the whoopee cushion in her drawer before turning to the board. “Let’s review the problems from yester-“

The words caught in their teacher's throat as the classroom door slammed open and a boy tumbled in, out of breath like he'd been running. Once more the class was in laughter and Misha shifted forward in his seat. He wasn't used to not being the one to make his classmates laugh and usually he prided himself on being the so-called class clown. So he shamelessly judged the boy, trying to determine the threat level to his standing reputation.

The boy had light brown hair and a long face that was flushed with exertion. He straightened up and headed forward, offering Mrs. Hettinger a note, ignoring the kids laughing and watching the teacher. Misha slumped back in his chair, no, this boy didn’t look like much of a threat.

“Class this is Michael Rosenbaum, let’s try and show him how mature we are.” Mrs. Hettinger shot Misha a look before waving to the back of the room. “You can sit back by Mr. Collins, Michael. Sorry for any inconvenience that might cause.”

Misha groaned as a ripple of laughter washed over the class. “Aw c’mon Mrs. H. Where’s the love? We all know I’m your favorite.” He grinned up at his teacher, watching as the boy casually, calmly, made his way down the aisle and took the seat beside Misha.

Upon closer inspection Misha decided the boy was not only _not_ a threat but he was kind of cute too. His jaw was square and his skin looked soft, his blue eyes were tinted with grey that Misha only caught in flashes as the boy looked down at his desk then back up, steadfastly ignoring Misha so openly staring at him.

The front of the boy’s notebook said _Mike_ and a few minutes into the class he pulled out what looked pretty close to an iPad. Misha hadn’t ever seen one in person and just the idea that Mike had one wanted to make him get a whole _lot_ friendly.

“And so we have to get it beneath the X,” Mrs. Hettinger was explaining when Misha glanced back up at her and he snorted, pleased with his timing.

“That’s what she said,” he muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear. He was pleased by the answering laughs and groans and he shrugged when the teacher glared his way. “Hey come on, you walked right into that one.”

“Maybe you’d like to come up here and give the problem a try,” the teacher shot back, holding up a dry erase marker.

Misha was actually pretty decent at math, which was why he hardly ever paid attention in class, but letting that fact be known wasn’t the type of image he wanted to give off. So he scoffed and sank lower in his seat. “I have a feeling you don’t really want me to do that Mrs. H.” She was one of the few teachers he’d dare to talk back to because she knew how smart he was, and she dealt with his crap.

So she shook her head and sighed but went back to teaching and Misha turned back to Mike, leaning out of his seat and smiling at him. “Hey, I’m Misha.”

The boy looked up, startled, then smiled just barely and dipped his head in a nod. Misha waited but the boy didn’t say anything and he kept his gaze fixed down on his book.

That was… unexpected. Sure he’d heard Misha speak up a few times but he hadn’t thought he was too overly rude. And Mike had missed the whoopee cushion thing all together. Unless the boy had some weird thing about _behavingnice_ smile too that made Misha curious all over again.

So when the bell rang he grabbed his stuff and stood, sliding around his desk and grinning down at Mike. “Most exciting class ever huh?”

Mike looked up at him and slowly nodded that same tentative smile in place. He stood and grabbed his notebook and iPad, staring at Misha who was currently blocking his way. Misha kept waiting because… he hadn’t done anything to this boy. Why the hell would he be ignoring him?

When Mike started to shift back to slide behind the desks and go to the other row, Misha frowned. “What gives man? What’d I do to you?”

Mike stopped and looked back at him, touching his throat and shaking his head. He smiled apologetically at Misha and shrugged before turning and heading up to their teacher. Mrs. Hettinger smiled at him and took the iPad Mike offered out, apparently answering a question written there.

For the first time in his entire life Misha suddenly felt _guilty_ for behaving the way he had. This Mike guy apparently couldn’t talk, and Misha was probably making him feel all weird about it or something. Sure Misha liked to make people laugh – his parents called it negative attention or whatever – but he didn’t necessarily enjoy making fun of people.

So as Mike finished up with Mrs. Hettinger Misha moved forward once more, catching him just outside the classroom and gripping his sleeve. “Hey, sorry about… I didn’t realize…” Misha waved toward Mike’s throat and laughed weakly.

Mike smiled and shook his head, handing Misha his math book before pulling up his iPad. There was a bright pink stylist tucked behind the boy’s ear and he pulled it out, scribbling on the pad for a long moment before turning it to Misha.

 _it’s ok. I’m Mike. didn’t mean to be an ass._

Misha grinned and looked up at the Mike, handing the thin pad back. “You weren’t an ass. So you really can’t talk?” Misha flinched and looked away, rubbing along his neck. “Uh, you’re not just like, it’s not just laryngitis or some weird quirk?”

It took nearly a minute for Mike to hand Misha the pad again and during that time he tried not to stare at the boy. After all, he was kind of gorgeous. And Misha could appreciate the oddness.

 _your sense of humor is a quirk, not my inability to speak. Am mute, have been my whole life. Don’t worry, it’s not contagious._

Something strange and tight pinched in Misha’s chest and he slowly handed the pad back, staring at Mike because he didn’t want to look away. “I didn’t think it was contagious.” he said quietly and the sad smile on Mike’s face had Misha wondering just how many people had treated him differently because of his inability to speak. “Hey if you need a tour around the school or-“

An arm hooked around Misha’s shoulders and pulled him back, an echoing laugh sounding in his ear. “C’mon Collins, the girl’s are running the mile in gym today, let’s get on the roof and drop water balloons on them.”

Misha stared at Mike a minute longer even as he was pulled away, watching as Mike lifted his hand in a half wave and smiled, turning and disappearing into the crowd. Something about the way the boy walked away, his shoulders squared, his head held up, had Misha’s heart quickening.

Even as he turned and laughed and shoved at his friend to get him to back off, Misha couldn’t get the boy’s smile from his mind. He didn’t think he’d be able to smile like that, to walk with his head up, or go to a regular school if he couldn’t even speak to anyone. And even with the distraction of girls and water balloons, Misha couldn’t shake that smile or those grey blue eyes.

Misha couldn’t explain the pull he instantly felt for the boy. Only that he wanted to talk to him more – so to speak – and considering how rare it was for anyone – or anything – to hold his attention for any length of time, Misha figured it had to be a good thing.

If only he knew what he was about to get himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike is accustomed to people who do things only to benefit themselves, so shamelessly judging Misha? It can’t be helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2010 - Prompt: Benefit

After the entrance Mike made in his first class, he assumed the rest of his day was going to be the same quiet catastrophe. He had a piece of paper for each teacher to inform them of his situation and it was always interesting to watch the reactions, watched people try and figure out how to handle that information. Not being able to talk was something Mike had always been adjusted too and sometimes he forgot other people just weren’t prepared to handle it.

He’d probably never forget the look in Misha’s eyes because it wasn’t the mix of sympathy and curiosity most people had. Instead it was… Mike couldn’t name it. Like Misha wanted to suddenly grab Mike and hug him but not because he felt bad, maybe because he felt some weird pull to him.

It wasn’t like anything Mike was used to.

It was certainly a million times better than the circumstances that had led to his family uprooting from the town he’d grown up in and moving to this small town where he knew no one.

At lunch Mike slipped out of the cafeteria shortly after watching Misha initiate a food fight and came to a slightly disappointing conclusion. Misha was the school clown, the one to lead everyone he could into mischief. And that wasn't the path Mike wanted to walk. After all, being mute didn't mix well with attention seeking.

And maybe Mike had felt that unusual pull but Misha most likely had his own benefit in mind. Who better to tease than the boy that couldn't fight back?

So the next day, when Mike showed up school to find Misha waiting at his locker, his steps understandably faltered.

Misha smiled bright and warm at Mike and half waved as he approached. "Hey, you left so fast yesterday I didn't get to talk to you."

Frowning slightly Mike shrugged and slowly turned the lock. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Misha shift in place and when he looked back up the boy's smile had dimmed. Mike sighed and twisted his bag around, pulling out his iPad and the custom stylist.

 _Sorry. My mom was waiting._

"It's okay," Misha said quickly once he'd read the note and handed it back. "Do you wanna hang out at lunch?"

Frown still in place Mike considered the request then lifted his hand, sticking out his thumb and pinkie. The look on Misha’s face was only confusion and Mike huffed in an inaudible sigh. He pulled up the iPad once more and scribbled quickly, handing it back to Misha.

“Why?” Misha read aloud and Mike wondered if he was thinking about the way Mike had formed his hand. “I don’t know. ‘Cause I want to get to know you? We could talk… or well, I could talk and you could write. And we could get to know each other.” Misha’s smile was cautiously optimistic, his fingers tracing along the edge of the iPad.

Mike knew very well what it felt like to get burned by people who wanted to _get to know him_. Sure it sounded like a good idea to befriend someone with a disability but the novelty wore off pretty quickly and people tended to either pull away or use it against him and Mike was starting fresh, he didn’t want to go down that path again.

So what made him dip his head in a slow agreeing nod was beyond him. Maybe Mike was too nice and maybe that pull toward Misha made him want to give the boy a chance.   
Misha grinned and handed the electronic pad back. "I'll meet you here at lunch."

Before Mike could nod Misha turned and shipped down the hall, a wave of laughter following him. Mike was pretty sure he was getting in over his head.

-=-=-=-

Sure enough, Misha was waiting for him in the same place come lunch. Mike was pleased even if he'd mildly been expecting the boy to not show.

"Let's go off campus, I've got a car." Misha grinned, stepping to the side so Mike could get in his locker.

As they walked out of school Mike scribbled on his iPad, frowning slightly and handing it to Misha. It probably wasn't nice to automatically think the worst of the boy but he had to be careful.

 _If you don't want to be seen with me you can just say. I'm used to it._

"That's not the case." Misha frowned over at him and dropped his arm over Mike as if to prove his point. "Just, if we eat here people will expect... just know that's not what I mean by taking you out okay?"

Mike slowly nodded, curious about what Misha wasn't saying. But he would wait to ask because they were at Misha’s Jeep and Mike had a thing about writing while driving. It took fifteen minutes to get to Burger King and get their food. Mike thought they would eat inside but Misha went through the drive-thru and took them to the park after, pulling into a spot in the lot and smiling as he turned his Jeep off.

Looking down, Mike wrote once more on the pad and handed it to Misha, busying himself with sorting through the food as Misha read and considered his answer.

 _Why do you do that? With the food fight and the water balloons. The class clown thing._

“I don’t know,” Misha finally said, sighing softly. “Guess I always have, and people just expect it now or something. You ever just get stuck a certain way?”

Mike arched his eyebrows and took a large bite of his burger. Like he really had to be asked _that_ question.

Misha laughed and shook his head. “Yeah okay, I guess you do. I can’t imagine not talking, that would just… it must be really hard.”

Setting his burger down, Mike took the pad back and cleared the screen before writing more. _It is. But then if you never knew an alternative, it doesn’t really matter as much._

“Good point. Probably would be worst to lose your voice later. And I suppose it could be worse. Not being able to see would really suck. Or hear, god. I can’t imagine.” Misha unwrapped his burger and looked up at Mike, pursing his lips. “Was that sort of an asshole thing to say? I didn’t mean it to be that way.”

Eyes widening, Mike cleared the screen once more and shook his head, silently laughing. He sort of hated his silent laughter, always so sure it made him look stupid, so he kept his eyes down and snatched his burger when Misha took the pad.

 _Not asshole. You just don’t know. It’s hard to understand things you don’t know a lot about. Why do you want to be friends with me?_

Misha hummed softly and shoved the last of his burger into his mouth, crumbling up the ball and tossing it in the bag. “I like you. You’re cute, and kind of mysterious. And I guess there’s just something about you… makes me want to spend time with you.”

Crumbling the wrapper of his own burger, Mike slowly placed it in the bag before looking up once more. Misha was smiling at him, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the sunshine, and Mike felt something he had never felt before. A little flutter in his heart and the desire to lean forward and kiss that bright smile.

 _You think I’m cute?_

“Very cute.” Misha murmured and popped some French fries in his mouth, still grinning at Mike. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

Choking on a drink of Coke, Mike flushed and looked up at Misha, shaking his head rapidly. Apparently Misha wasn’t beating around the bush, and apparently he had some things in mind that Mike hadn’t anticipated. Now that he was thinking about it though, it made heat crawl through Mike so fast it was almost painful.

Misha’s smile was soft now; maybe he was reading more into Mike’s blush than Mike really wanted him too. “Do you like boys?”

It was probably weird but Mike didn’t really think about that kind of stuff. Sure he thought about dating someone but he’d always imagined it would be in college, when people were a little less judgmental, and maybe he’d find someone who knew sign language so he wouldn’t have to write out everything. So, Mike had long since resigned himself to not dating in high school and Misha being interested now completely threw him.

“Do you not like boys?” Misha’s smile faded now and he blushed. “I’m sorry, that was really- shit, you probably feel all weird now ‘cause I’m just kind of-“

Mike interrupted him by smacking his arm. It wasn’t the best tactic but at least it got the boy to stop fumbling over back tracking. He silently laughed once more and scribbled on the pad, handing it over quickly.

 _I like boys. Just not used to people liking me. You’re kind of throwing off my norm._

“Oh.” Misha’s grin returned with full force as he looked up from the pad. “Good. God, I was worried. Sorry. I’m a bit of a spaz.”

That was certainly something Mike had already noticed. It also made the boy adorable but he’d kept that fact to himself.

“So, will you go out with me on Friday?” Misha asked softly, reaching out to lay a hand over Mike’s arm. “On a date.”

Mike stared down at the hand on his arm for a long moment before following it up the length of Misha’s arm, to his shoulder, and fixing on his face. He probably shouldn’t they were still trying to unpack and his mom was a little overprotective, but something about the genuine care in Misha’s eyes had him slowly nodding.

“Great. Friday it is. I’ll pick you up at seven. Now, grab that pad of yours and write down the Mike 411.” Misha pulled his hand back but Mike could still feel the pressure and warmth and that was enough to make him smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha picks up Mike for a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2010 - Prompt: trust

On Friday Mike got home from school and promptly spent two hours attempting to pick something suitable to wear. It wasn’t necessarily that he had no clothes, it was more the fact Mike wanted to look _good_ and when all you had was jeans and t-shirts, that level of good didn’t really apply.

In the end he settled on a black button down shirt buried in the back of his closet, the same one he’d worn to his cousin’s wedding a few months before. It was a little snug now but Mike thought it was decent enough. He chose jeans because the particular pair was tight and form fitting and – after ten minutes staring at his ass in the mirror – Mike decided his ass looked pretty good in them.

A quarter after six he hopped down the stairs, clutching his iPad and smiling so wide it hurt. A _date_. A real one. He could hardly fathom the idea. All week long Misha had been turning up in random places, never hesitating to talk to him like he was a normal person, always cheerful and bright. Even if he occasionally stopped to do ridiculous things – like drawing a mustache on the picture of the head cheerleader on the wall.

“Wow, you look nice.” Mike’s mom turned as he entered the kitchen, smiling softly at him. “What’s the occasion?”

Mike had been holding off telling his mom about the date because, well, he’d been holding off telling her that he might kind of like guys. Pursing his lips, Mike sat the iPad on the table and lifted his hands, knowing signing to his mom would go much faster than trying to write it out.

 _I have a date._

He watched as the surprise made his mom’s eyes widen. “A date? You never mentioned one. And how are you planning on picking her up?”

She was slightly teasing Mike knew but there was something in her eyes, like maybe she knew more than Mike was letting on. Dropping his gaze, Mike quickly signed back. _He’s picking me up._

It was quiet for a few minutes and Mike fiddled with the top of the chair, holding his breath as his mom processed everything. It was probably not the best way to come out to his mom, they should sit down and have a whole discussion about it, but Mike hadn’t ever been a big fan of _discussing_ things. For obvious reasons.

“Well, he must be very special then.” His mom finally said, stepping over to Mike and gently squeezing his arm. “You know you could have told me earlier.”

 _I can’t **tell** you anything._ Mike looked up at his mom, faint smile on his face. _Just wasn’t sure about things. You’re okay with it?_

“Of course I am. Michael, it’s just you and me, there’s no room for any differences. I think we need to talk about this some more but we can wait until later, after your date.” She ruffled his hair until Mike pulled back, scowling at her. She laughed softly and shook his head. “Now, sit down and tell me everything about this boy.”

That was about as unappealing as talking about the gay thing but, whatever. He kind of liked Misha, a lot, so he didn’t mind giving him mom some details.

It was weird to be in his place. After all, Mike may have had fleeting crushes in the past but he always dismissed them, he knew his place. But now that Misha was showing a genuine interest in him, Mike had to think about the facts. Like, how he’d never kissed anyone and it was one thing to think Misha was cute but it was another thing all together to _kiss_ him.

What if he was awful? What if he didn’t like it? Or worse, what if Misha didn’t try and kiss him at all?

The doorbell ringing made Mike jump. He hadn’t even realized he’d gotten lost in his thoughts and now it was _seven_ and Misha was going to take him lord knows where and Mike was going to make an idiot of himself.

“Mike, you’ve got a crazy look in your eyes.” His mom laughed softly and touched his shoulder. “Come on, I want to meet him.”

Biting his lip, Mike nodded and grabbed the iPad, carrying it with him to the front door. He inhaled deeply and held it as he pulled the door open, slowly exhaling as his eyes landed on Misha. The boy was wearing a light blue shirt that looked incredibly soft and nice black slacks that made Mike feel incredibly undressed.

“Hi.” Misha smiled and spoke softly, lifting his hand in a wave.

Mike had never heard him so quiet – and almost a little shy – and Mike lifted his hand, waving. He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy, all the air in his chest felt tight and almost painful.

“Hi there, I’m Shelly, Mike’s mom; it’s nice to meet you.” The woman stepped forward and held her hand out for Misha, smiling softly.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Misha.” Misha shook her hand and smiled politely, pulling a card out of his pocket a moment later and offering it out. “I thought I might meet you, and I know you don’t know me, so I just…” Misha wet his lips and looked over at Mike then back at his mom. “I put my cell number down on here. You know, in case you needed to call.”

“Oh,” Mike’s mom frowned then smiled brightly, nodding as she clutched the card. “Thank you Misha, that was very thoughtful of you. And Mike’s curfew is midnight.”

Mike looked sharply over at his mom, frowning as he tucked the iPad under his arm and turned to her, hands lifting to sign quickly. _It’s Friday night. I should be allowed out until one._

“Michael,” Shelly frowned disapprovingly and looked over at Misha. “Honestly.”

 _Don’t honestly me. I never go out. This is my first date, one, please?_ Mike looked pleadingly at his mother, glancing over at Misha and noting his curious eyes.

He could see the moment his mom gave in her eyes softening as she nodded. “Alright, one o’clock. Be good boys.”

Mike grinned and nodded, stepping forward to quickly hug her before turning to Misha and reaching out. Misha’s hand found his almost naturally and the boy led him out to the Jeep, smiling over at him. Mike laughed silently as Misha opened his door, gesturing for him to head inside. “You look really nice,” Misha murmured, brushing his thumb down Mike’s jaw.

Everything in Mike fluttered and he smiled, reaching out to touch Misha’s shirt. He think the boy caught that he was saying _you too_ because Misha smiled brightly and nodded.

Tonight was going to be something to savor forever, Mike thought.

-=-=-=-

Misha took Mike to a movie. It was a good choice, because Mike wouldn’t have to write and Misha wouldn’t have to wait for him too. Mike didn’t pay much attention to the movie though. Instead he was completely focused on the way Misha’s knee pressed to his and the warmth coming from their joined hands.

There were a few kids from school in the theatre and Mike expected Misha to pull away, make this thing between them look friends only or something but that wasn’t the case. Misha held his hand, guided him along, always introduced him and by the time they left the theatre Mike felt his entire chest was going to explode from all the _good_.

Next up was milkshakes that Misha declared were _to die for_. And he was right. Mike had never tasted something so good, made even better by Misha across the booth, reenacting the scenes from the movie with an abudance of over dramatics. In a way Mike thought Misha was his exact opposite.

Whereas Mike was fully confident in himself, capable of walking in a crowd and not feeling in more out of sorts than anyone else, Misha seemed to need to reassure himself that he was _more_. Mike wondered if Misha’s confidence really was so low, wondered if the only way Misha felt good was by drawing this extra attention to himself.

It was almost a quarter to eleven when they left the diner and Mike figured it had to be too late to go anywhere else. He didn’t want the night to draw to an end so soon, not when he thought he could listen to Misha’s voice all night – even if he was a little insane sometimes.

But they drove past Mike’s neighborhood and kept going until they were out of town. Misha didn’t talk on the drive and Mike watched the way he gripped the steering wheel as if he were nervous. It made him wonder where they were going and even though he really liked Misha and thought he was amazing, Mike couldn’t help being a little worried that things might not turn out so good if Misha had something crazy in mind.

Eventually Misha turned off a dirt road that led to a high overpass. Mike could see several secluded parking areas and no amount of inexperience would keep him from knowing what this was. It was like, make out lane or something.

 _Jesus Christ_.

Mike’s palms suddenly felt sweaty and he curled his fingers over them as Misha drove to the end of the line and pulled into a spot, turning off the Jeep and the headlights. Mike watched him exhale and slowly uncurl his fingers from the wheel before turning to Mike with what was certainly a nervous smile.

“I honestly have never taken anyone up here before.” Misha laughed softly and shrugged. “Is it okay? We can just talk of you want.”

Mike smiled and wet his lips, nodding slowly and reaching out to set the iPad on top of the dash. It was enough of an answer he supposed and Mike realized Misha’s Jeep was perfect for this, old enough to have a front bench instead of two bucket seats and Misha could just kind of, slide over.

Which he did.

Mike’s breath caught in his throat and he stared at Misha, hoping he didn’t look as terrified as he felt.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything…” Misha murmured and gently slid his fingers over Mike’s jaw.

Instead of trying to figure out a way to answer, Mike reached out and grasped the collar on Misha’s shirt, tugging him close. Their lips met and slid together, noses bumping at first, Mike’s hand caught between them. Then Misha corrected the movement and pressed in deeper, sliding the rest of the way across the seat until their thighs touched.

One of Misha’s arms slid behind his back, cupping along his hairline, the other moved over his lap until his fingers curled over Mike’s hip. Mike’s lips parted in a silent gasp and Misha used it to his advantage, slipping his tongue forward and tentatively grazing across Mike’s.

It felt as if every part of Mike was on fire. His hand settled on Misha’s thigh, the other on his abs, and when Misha began to tilt him back it felt only natural to go with it. Mike wasn’t even completely certain how he managed to get stretched out across the front seat but there he was and Misha pulled back, smiling down at him.

“Trust me. All you have to do is say stop,” Misha whispered before dipping down into the kiss once more.

At the first press of their crotches together Mike twitched up, only vaguely thinking: _no, he couldn’t say stop_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha isn’t as brave and strong as everyone thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2010 - Prompt: taste

On more than one occasion in Mike’s life – though not as many as one might think – Mike seriously regretted his ability to make any sound. This was one of those times. With Misha above him, their bodies pressed together, their crotches rolling between each glide of their lips, Mike desperately wished he could moan the way Misha was. He wanted the boy to know how very good this was, how much he couldn’t get enough of it.

He thought maybe his body would speak for him, the arch and curve, his foot digging hard into the door as he struggled up for more friction. Misha’s fingers curled over his waistline, tugging and pulling and the first flick of the button free had Mike’s entire body tensing.

Misha looked up, staring into Mike’s eyes and smiling softly. “This okay?”

All Mike could do was nod. He’d be a damn idiot to stop this now. What seventeen year old boy didn’t completely long for some gorgeous guy to take enough interest in him for _this_ to happen? Sure he was nervous but he thought that Misha wouldn’t go too far, not in the front of his Jeep. Hopefully.

Misha pulled at Mike’s jeans until they had him trapped around the thighs and all of the air in Mike’s lungs caught and held when Misha slid back and flicked his own button open. His wide eyed, flushed cheeks, parted lips thing must have caught the boy’s attention because Misha laughed softly and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, it’ll just feel better with skin, okay? I’m not… just trust me on this, really.” Misha murmured, reaching out to touch Mike’s cheek.

Mike felt stupidly exposed; his jeans shimmied down, his shirt shoved up, Misha’s eyes constantly flickering over his obvious arousal. So he did what seemed the most logical and sat up, pulling his shirt off and letting it drop to the floor. Then he dropped back down and wiggled out of his jeans, kicking them off to the side.

“God, Mike, you’re so hot,” Misha murmured and pulled his own shirt off, squeezing between the dash and the seat so he could shove his jeans off. When he finally looked back at Mike, there was a soft smile on his lips. “Can I?”

Mike nodded jerkily – though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was given permission for - his cheeks flushed. Misha crawled up and over Mike, bracing himself on a hand. The other carefully wrapped around the already leaking length of Mike’s erection. He moaned, low and soft against Misha’s cheek, Mike’s arm lifting to twine around the boy’s neck, mouth seeking mouth.

Misha slid his tongue deep, sliding his fingers carefully against the hard cock in his hand, shivering when their cocks brushed together as Mike arched against him.

Then Misha was releasing his grip on Mike and that wasn’t at all what he wanted. Of course, until Misha’s body lowered against his and Mike got a full taste of what he was in for. Misha lowered his hips and rocked forward, groaning at the first delicious, off-center slide of their cocks against one another.

“Oh god…” He gasped and Mike clutched hard at his neck, soundlessly making his own gasp, arching up against him with an awkward jerk. Misha scooted up higher, aligning their lengths before drawing back and rocking forward again.

Mike had never realized it could feel like this, it didn’t seem like it would, but Misha’s skin was burning against his and each time their hips rolled together Mike thought he was going to lose his mind.

It was all over alarmingly fast. Mike’s spine twisted as he arched up and grasped Misha’s hair then the slick heat of his orgasm was spreading between them and he bit down hard enough on Misha’s neck to make him call out.

 _Perfect. Perfect. Perfect._

When Misha collapsed breathless on him, Mike didn’t so much mind the extra weight. In fact, he didn’t even mind come cooling sticky between their bodies or his ass pressing into the cool Jeep seat. As far as Mike was concerned, this was the best night ever.

“You wanna be my boyfriend?” Misha asked into his neck, once his chest had stopped shaking with each inhale.

Slowly, sleepily smiling, Mike nodded. He couldn’t think of a thing he wanted more.

-=-=-=-

Mike wasn’t exactly certain what it meant to be boyfriends with Misha but he liked the idea of _having_ a boyfriend. After all, it was kind of lame to make it through high school without one, he thought. Or maybe it didn’t matter but whatever, he was plenty happy to have Misha as his.

For the weekend that was.

On Monday morning Mike walked to school as usual, excited to see Misha, possibly still buzzing from the weekend and the sorta kinda losing some of his virginity – could you lose only part of your virginity? Mike wasn’t sure.

When he spotted Misha talking to some boys he didn’t know Mike merely smiled and headed their way, twisting his bag around to pull out his iPad and stylist. Misha’s back was to him so Mike reached out, tapping his shoulder and smiling at the boy. The group grew quiet at his interruption and Mike looked around before fixing his gaze on Misha again and waving.

This time the other boys laughed and Misha looked away. “Hey Mike, you uh, here about that project? Look I’ll just catch up with you later.”

When Misha looked up his eyes were pleading and Mike didn’t even have to know him at all to know that look said _just get out of here now, I don’t want you here_. It was enough to have Mike stepping back, blinking, and pursing his lips in confusion. The strong taste of bile rose in the back of Mike’s throat and he did the first thing that came to mind.

In this case, it happened to be slapping Misha. Damn that boy. Mike had spent his whole life building up the confidence that he had. Did he have any idea how hard it was to be disabled in any way and still keep your head held up while everyone else mocked you? No, of course he didn’t, and Mike wasn’t sure why he’d thought Misha was different.

Even though Mike hadn’t said a word, he had a feeling Misha got the silent words. Of course, the slap went a long way to express just how horrible the tightening in Mike’s chest suddenly was.

“Ooh Misha, he really told you.” One of the boys laughed, snickering with his friends. “What’s the matter freak? Cat got your tongue?”

Sometimes Mike didn’t mind that he couldn’t stand up for himself the way he wanted too. After all, he was by default the bigger man because he turned and walked away from fights. But it didn’t exactly help that reputation he’d been working so hard on and all. And in this case, his heart felt a little like it was breaking so he didn’t have the tolerance to simply walk away. Instead he scribbled on his iPad and turned it to the boy.

“Fuck you.” One of the other boys read aloud then looked over at his friends.

Their laughter wasn’t nearly as horrible as Misha’s joining in with them. He was still touching his cheek and his gaze was pointedly fixed anywhere but on Mike and it felt like the world was tilting him off his the ground and everything was so very different from how it had been five minutes ago when he’d been looking forward to seeing his boyfriend again.

Turning, Mike finally gave in to the desire to walk away. He wondered if Misha watched him go but he didn’t look back, couldn’t look back, and it kind of felt like he was leaving pieces of his heart in the wake of his departure.

-=-=-=-

Truthfully, Mike wasn’t all that surprised that Misha was waiting in front of his locker at lunch time. Though really, the double standard was a little maddening. Mike wondered if he was here because his friends from earlier had a different lunch, or maybe their lockers were in a different wing. Mike had this idea in his mind before that Misha was a practical joker but he was also brave, and he didn’t let stupid homophobic fears keep him from claiming what he wanted.

Now, he didn’t even look at the boy as he opened his locker and slipped his books inside.

“Mike,” Misha said softly, his tone quiet and hurt. “Please.”

Mike shot him a look and he was fairly certain Misha got the implied _are you fucking kidding me?_

“I just panicked okay? I didn’t mean too. Those guys are… they could kick both our asses alright? Admitting what we were, it was just too dangerous.”

Mike hadn’t cleared his iPad since that morning – like some type of sick reminder of how fast things could fall apart – so he turned it on and twisted it to Misha, raising his eyebrows as if he were bored and this was just an annoying thing to deal with.

Misha frowned and stepped back, rubbing once more at his cheek. “I’m really sorry.”

Turning the iPad back to him, Mike cleared the screen and wrote _good_ before showing it to Misha and turning to walk off. Misha called out his name but Mike ignored him. It was just better this way. Sure it was a ridiculously short relationship but Mike felt he had the right to be crushed.

It was kind of worse that Mike wanted to take Misha back, immediately, but he wasn’t addressing that at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha has to win Mike back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2010 - Prompt: order

If Mike had his way he wouldn't go back to school. Not because he was afraid of seeing Misha again but more because he felt stupid. How had he let himself get fooled into thinking there really could be someone amazing enough to just accept him?

But he wasn't given a choice and he didn't want to worry his mom so he went back the next day.

He saw Misha in class but chose to sit on the other side of the room. He tried not to worry when the boy was absurdly quiet in class - enough to get the students and teacher looking curiously at him. Mike told himself it was guilt on Misha’s part and good. He deserved to feel that.

But it unsettled Mike, curling in the pit of his stomach uncertainly. It was strange how he’d known the boy a week and still he noticed these things, like how bad a sign it was that Misha wasn’t making a public mockery of himself and others like he was so well known for.

When class finished Mike thought about talking to Misha but – besides the obvious inability to – he chickened out. After all, he shouldn’t be the one to approach Misha; he wasn’t the one to make the stupid ass mistake that had ruined them so quickly.

So Mike just left the class, even when Misha paused near him and hesitated, like he wanted to say something. Mike didn’t really want to hear another apology, what good would it do?  
Mike couldn’t just forgive and forget because seriously? Misha knew how he’d never done this before; he’d had to understand that this reaction was like a knife in the back.

The rest of the week went a lot like that. Misha kept his unusual silence and Mike was just as quiet but that wasn’t so unusual. Misha thought he shouldn’t really be grieving a relationship that only lasted a couple days but he’d felt something for Misha, and there was the thing in the Jeep, and all of it had been so fast and sharp and wonderful.

Until it wasn’t.

The middle of the following week Mike finally thought things would go back to normal. Sure Misha was still being quiet but Mike didn’t feel the fist squeezing his heart when he passed the boy in the halls or classrooms so that was something.

Then lunch came and Mike took his usual seat in the back of the cafeteria, minding his own business, perfectly okay to be the nobody that skirted through high school without drawing any attention. He read as he ate, working through ebooks on his iPad just for the sake of convenience.

He didn’t look up when music started playing because it didn’t seem like there was really a reason too. Yeah, music in the cafeteria was a little weird but Mike was dismissing it to cheerleaders or something ridiculous like that.

Until of course a familiar voice filled the speakers and echoed around the full room.

 _Imagine me and you, I do  
I think about you day and night, it’s only right_

Mike slowly sat back, turning to face the boy even though he knew what it was going to be. A few people had cheered, laughed, obviously writing this off to Misha being weird as usual. Mike was staring up at Misha as he sang into a microphone and walked toward him, replacing the _girl_ in the next line to guy and grinning.

 _I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but you  
For all my life  
When you’re with me, baby the skies’ll be blue  
For all my life_

By this point Misha had completely stepped up to him and everyone staring had to put the pieces together. Even more so when Misha grabbed his hand and tugged him up out of the chair, pulling him close so their lips could brush together.

Mike’s heart was racing, his knees weak enough he didn’t think he’d be able to keep standing. Especially not as the music continued to play and Misha pulled him in close, spinning him in circles and holding him close. Mike desperately wished he could say something in that moment because if he pulled away Misha would take it the wrong way but Mike had so much to say.

Instead of moving away though, he let Misha dance with him, in front of everyone in the cafeteria. So much for skirting along the outside.

“Forgive me,” Misha whispered against his ear, the air warm and hot on Mike’s skin. “Please. I’m going crazy without you.”

Mike needed to tell Misha that this was silly, that they’d only been together days and he couldn’t possibly miss him so much. But he knew the way he ached and so, maybe it wasn’t so unheard of. Swallowing thickly, Mike dipped his head in a slow nod, squeezing Misha tightly.

And then Misha kissed him, in front of everyone, and Mike couldn’t help kissing him back. God there was so much he needed to get off his chest, but for now? He’d take this at least.

-=-=-=-

 _Misha,_

 _You hurt me but I think you know that. You know I didn’t really NEED someone like you, that’s not to say I don’t want you, but I was doing just fine without you. And even though I’ve agreed to forgive you, I think you need to understand a few things, because I can’t go through the heart ache again._

 _I’ve spent my whole life being teased, over and over by everyone. It’s made me build up a tough skin but I was letting you through that. Then everything just fell apart so fast, what did you expect me to do?_

 _So if we decide to be together then you just have to be okay with me, and there’s no hiding me okay? I want to be yours but only if you’re okay with everyone knowing that._

 _Also? If you hurt me again like that it’ll be my fist and not a slap. Okay?_

 _One last thing, you’re a great singer, for the record._

Mike fidgeted uncertainly as Misha read the letter, slowly folding it closed as he finished. He’d needed to write it all out because that was his method of course and it gave him time to really process it.

Now he watched, wetting his lips slowly as he leaned back against Misha’s Jeep and watched the boy slowly nod.

“Yeah, okay.” Misha nodded and grinned over at Mike. “I get it. I really am sorry for what I did to you. You’re so amazing and you don’t deserve that. So… never again. I promise.”

Mike grinned and pressed forward, crushing his lips into Misha’s. He really hoped Misha meant it, because he desperately wanted to be with him once more, no matter how much he insisted he was over it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at how the back together again couple make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2010 - Prompt: shelter

_When will your mom be home?_

Mike watched the hands of his boyfriend move, uncertain and slow but in the right way and he couldn’t help grinning. Even though he didn’t need Misha to sign, he had to admit there were advantages to being able to talk without writing it down. So Misha learned by doing it himself and Mike encouraged him in all the best ways he knew how.

Holding up nine fingers, Mike glances over at the clock then fell back on the bed. It was only six thirty; they had plenty of time yet to be alone. _Come here_.

“That’s come here right?” Misha asked quietly, crawling across the bed and pressing his arms down into the bed on either side of Mike. “Did I get it?”

Grinning a little brighter, Mike nodded then pushed up, capturing Misha lips against his own in a slow, delicious kiss. It was strange the way everything had worked itself out after their first initial fall out. Mike hadn’t thought it would be so easy – if you wanted to call the fall out in Misha’s popularity something easy to deal with – and he was a little relieved that nothing worse had happened.

Especially since his relationship with Misha couldn’t be better now and that was the most important thing.

Misha’s hands slipped up under his shirt, running soft along Mike’s chest to make him squirm. “Gonna take this off,” Misha murmured before sitting back and pulling Mike up with him. They sat face to face on the bed, Misha gently working Mike out of his shirt before pulling off his own.

This wasn’t so unusual; Mike had seen Misha without a shirt. Hell, he’d seen him mostly naked – at least the parts that really counted – so there was really no reason his cheeks should be so flushed. Maybe because his mind was supplying him with how far they’d gone and what they’d left to do and what Mike wanted right then and there.

He lifted his hand and signed quickly, not all that surprised when Misha just arched his eyebrow, clearly not knowing the new sign. Which made sense, since Mike hadn’t honestly thought to teach him that. _Read aloud._

“Alright.” Misha slowly nodded, eyes flickering between Mike’s hands and his face. “I. Want. To. What’s that one? Oh, right, go. All. The. Way.”

Mike nodded and dropped his hands in his lap, waiting for Misha to put the sentence together. He dropped his gaze after too long of a silence because he didn’t want to see Misha’s face if he got rejected.

“You want to have sex?” Misha squeaked a moment later, a soft laugh following the high lift of his voice. “Sorry, just uh, wow. I mean, I want that, of course I do.”

Wetting his lips, Mike looked up and smiled softly at Misha, raising his eyebrow to silently ask Misha what else he wasn’t saying. He’d actually sort of thought that Misha had already had sex, he seemed pretty experienced when it came to everything else.

“It’s just, are you sure? I mean, god I want that, really bad. But if you’re not sure, we can wait. I don’t need you to put out to keep me around. So it’s okay.” Misha spoke softly, running a hand up through his hair. “Because if you don’t want too-”

Mike reached out and pressed his palm over Misha’s lips, his smile growing. When their eyes locked he slowly nodded and gave Misha his best _fuck me_ look. Not being able to flat out say something like that was complicated but he was fairly certain Misha and he had developed a suitable method of communicating without words.

So when Misha smiled as Mike pulled his hand away, Mike was fairly certain they were on the same page. Even more so when Misha pushed him down against the bed and crawled over him, their lips meeting in a rapidly deepening kiss. Misha’s hands burned where they slid all over his body, across his chest, dipping just under Mike’s jeans.

The closest they’d come to actual sex was the time when Misha slipped just the tip of his finger up in Mike. For some reason that had seemed outrageously hot and he’d come before Misha could get any further.

Now was a different story though.

They peeled off layers of denim and cotton until both their bodies were bare, their skin searing as it met and rolled together. Mike twisted to the side and grabbed the bottle of lube he’d bought in the nightstand drawer and tossed it back to Misha. Their eyes met again and Mike smiled to match Misha’s, his heart flipping in his chest.

Mike was thoroughly distracted in the next moment by Misha swallowing him down, sucking him expertly and bringing Mike’s hips off the bed with every moment. So he didn’t even realize Misha was shifting his fingers forward until the first one breached his tight ring of muscle.

It was unlike anything Mike had ever felt before, silky hot and burning, in a dull throbbing way that should have hurt but simply made Mike harder. It continued like that too. Misha kept sucking him down, working him over with a skilled tongue and silck heat, and every time he’d pull Mike in all the way he’d slip another finger in.

Mike’s body twisted and writhed with passion as Misha stretched and pushed and twisted his fingers deep within Mike. And Mike was fairly certain he was going to come at any moment because _Jesus Christ_ the pain pleasure of this was almost too intense.

Then Misha was pulling his fingers free and Mike’s lips parted in a soundless gasp. He could feel Misha crawl up over him as if every inch of his skin was prickling and humming with awareness. So amazing already and nothing had even happened.

“God Mike,” Misha groaned softly and Mike could hear the tear of foil before Misha was moaning once more.

Mike was trying not to tense himself, knowing relaxing was the key. But he couldn’t help stiffening as Misha first pressed against him, the feel too blunt and wide, and Mike didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. Luckily, his boyfriend knew exactly how to calm him down.

A hand stroked softly along his jaw, up through his hair and Misha dipped way down to gently kiss him, deepening it as he inched his cock forward into Mike. This burn and stretch was ten thousand times more intense and it lost some of the pleasuring edge that he’d known before.

Until Misha was all the way in, panting against his lips, and Mike was forcing out small breaths to keep from tearing back and sliding away. It really didn’t hurt _that_ bad but it was certainly much different from what Mike was use to.

“You okay?” Misha asked after a few moments, his voice tight and breathless.

Mike figured this had to be the opposite for him, the pleasure almost _too_ much. Smiling softly, Mike nodded and pressed up for another soft kiss. Then it changed, the pain ebbed away and Misha shifted forward. The boy’s cock pressed against a spot deep within him and Mike shuddered at the sudden flash of pleasure.

A clutch at Misha’s arm and the boy was moving, pulling back and sliding forward in continuing swift movements, each time a little deeper, a little harder. There was no name for this type of pleasure, Mike just knew that it felt like his entire body was convulsing with rippling waves of it. Surely Misha was going to be the death of him, in the absolute best way.

“Mike,” Misha moaned and rocked his hips harder forward, snapping with the increased pace.

Mike forced his eyes open and stared up at Misha, watching the pleasure painted along his face. He couldn’t believe that this boy chose him, that he’d taken a risk for him, that he _wanted_ him.

“Can’t hold-“ Misha gasped and smashed his lips down against Mike’s, painfully hard so their teeth clashed and clicked together.

Then a warm hand was wrapping around Mike’s cock, stroking and twisting with each hard thrust forward. It was enough for Mike to lose his own control and his fingers dug into Misha’s shoulders as his orgasm tore silently through him. In Mike’s crazy little fantasies he’d always imagined suddenly being able to make noise when he came but that wasn’t the case, and maybe that was better.

Misha came moments later, pulling out of him after a long while of simply laying on Mike’s chest. Mike closed his eyes as Misha’s weight temporarily left him then returned with a warm rag that ran over Mike’s chest.

Swallowing thickly, Mike rolled onto his side and faced Misha, smiling sleepily. He lifted his hand and signed slowly, each fall of his eyelids taking longer to pull back up. _I love you_.

Misha chuckled softly and nodded, grasping Mike’s hand and bringing it up to gently kiss each finger. “I love you too.”

No part of Mike doubted Misha’s words and that was kind of amazing.

~End  



End file.
